Writing for Love
The bittersweet first glance of love,
Changing into something briefly potential,
But having the notion meet inevitability.
Now with my downfall all too near,
Without the morals I used to adhere,
Without my standards being upheld,
Without the thoughts that seem to meld.
As nothing makes sense,
A seeming bleak fate in await;
The power required is too intense,
And I am too late.
Loneliness is resulting rejection,
And I, how different to the norm,
With no progress sworn,
With my writing to forlorn;
Although I do not know,
If the answer will show,
I will see where my writing will go.
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